


A Road Not Taken

by Kodaik97



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: And those she loves, Anyone else can suck it, Astrid will be less violent, At least to Hiccup, BAMF Hiccup, Cause I like him that way, F/M, He might not be the best parent here, Not really sure where I'm going with this story to be honest, Snotlout bashing, Sorry Not Sorry, Stoick the Vast's A+ Parenting, at least... I'm not planning to?, but I still like him, dunno. Not sure how dis works, httyd!au, no beta we die like men, seems like I'll be tagging as I go along, so no worries I won't kill him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 06:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kodaik97/pseuds/Kodaik97
Summary: Ok so, this was just something that had been stuck in my head for a while now since I've seen a lot of "What if Valka had taken Hiccup with her" scenarios (don't get me wrong! I think they're fantastic) but was kind of wanting to see something new with it. And ta-da! I got this little story I honestly think would be an interesting "what if"If I can pull it off that is...





	1. Prologue: Unexpected Life

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I don't own HTTYD or its characters. just the (maybe) original plot of the story.

_ It was everywhere. The fire was spreading by the second and _ **_they_ ** _ were everywhere. Stealing, killing, destroying... flying. They were their enemies, monsters that mindlessly killed, or at least, that is what everyone grew up believing. With good reason too, she supposed, but she knew it could be different. She knew it could be  _ better _. Berk was a land of kill or be killed, but she believed that peace was possible. She knew that they weren't the mindless killing machines that other vikings made them out to be. Needless to say that it was a very unpopular opinion. She tried and tried to prove it, but no one believed her and she didn't have the proof she needed. Not that such proof existed because no matter how concrete it was, no proof could ever change a mind that didn't want to be changed in the first place. So no, she didn't have the proof she needed. She just couldn't change their minds; they would never change. And it infuriated her that no matter how much she tried, she couldn't make them see things from her point of view. It was hopeless. Yes, she knew this too. But even so, as long as she was here she would keep trying. There was nothing else she could do. _

_ She ran around carrying a bucket full of water trying to stop the fire from spreading as much as possible but it was no use. To her right she saw them flying around, one of them barreling down where it laid in a tired heap on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the vikings heading in the direction of the fallen dragon. She threw down the bucket and ran towards them, making it just in time to catch the viking's arm that was swinging the ax in the downed dragon's direction. _

_ "Stop! You'll only make it worse!" She screamed at him. The dragon took this chance to make its escape, flying away from potential death and leaving the two vikings to watch after its retreating figure. The Viking snatched his arm free from this strange woman right away, frowning at her as he made his way somewhere else. Looking for a new fight. A new dragon to kill. _

_ Valhallarama turned around to look around her and gasped. A massive dragon with what looked like four wings was making its way into her house. Without a second thought she started running to the house. When she came through the door she froze at the sight that welcomed her. Snapping out of her stupor, she grabbed a nearby weapon and made her way over to the dragon. _

_ There, laying in his cot was her year and five months old son, Hiccup, and the Hofferson's ten months old daughter, Astrid, laughing, giggling, and playing with the four winged dragon. For a moment she could do nothing but stare, shocked at the display in front of her. _

_ This proved her theory! _

_ She looked on, awed as the dragon played carefully right back with them. Realizing that she was there the dragon got startled and looked her way, accidentally scratching little Hiccup's chin and swiftly approaching her. Scared little Hiccup started crying, making baby Astrid start crying as well. She held the weapon in her hands in front of her to protect herself as the dragon slowly moved her way. She panicked a little when the dragon started growling. _

_ Looking into its big yellow eyes staring right back at her, she realized, this wasn't a vicious beast. But an intelligent, gentle creature whose soul reflected her own. Slowly lowering her weapon she stared right back at him in curious wonder. _

_ All too soon, they were interrupted by an ax that was thrown landing between them, starling both of them apart. There was a grunt she was pretty sure was human and a growl that had come from the dragon. _

_ "Val! Run!" She saw Stoick the chief running toward the dragon ready to attack. But she saw that the dragon was ready for a battle as well.  _

_ "No, don't." Her pleas went unheard as the dragon attacked her husband with fire. She grabbed on the dragon's wing and pulled it to her, turning it to her in the process. The fire that was slowly spreading behind the dragon illuminated it while it approached her. _

_ The house was on fire. She needed to get out of here but not before grabbing the kids. Vaguely, she could hear her husband, Stoic, calling for her. But she didn't think to answer. Getting closer to the crying noises, she blindly grabbed one of them before the dragon got in her way. "Hold on!" She heard Stoick yell at her while she backed away from the dragon. Before she could reach out for the other baby she was snatched by the four winged dragon. _

_ "No! Aah! Stoick!" She called for him as she tried not to be dropped as they started flying away from the ground more and more. She couldn't risk getting dropped as she had a baby in her arms. As they were flying away she could see, from the huge hole on the side of her house, her husband looking up at her with the other baby in his arms. As they were flying away she also realized that the baby in her arms wasn't Hiccup. But Astrid Hofferson. _

**_XXX_ **

_ When they had finally landed on the big ice land, she was amazed by the sight that welcomed her and baby Astrid. All around them there were hundreds of different dragons flying around. They were all flying in a calm, upward spiral. Few of which she could recognize. Most of the species of dragons she saw flying she didn't know, they weren't in the book of dragons! It was an amazing view. And even though she could clearly see that some of the dragons had an injury of some kind or the other, it all looked so peaceful to her. The most shocking view though, was of the beautiful frost colored Bewilderbeast in the middle of it like a King. _

_ It was then that she'd made her decision. She just hoped that she wouldn't come to regret it. _


	2. Chances

**_Hiccup_ **

There were sounds of explosions from every direction and soon after, the heavy scent of smoke tickling my nose.

Things were on fire and this time it was not my fault. Which was great. I just wasn’t thrilled that such a thing was caused by huge, fire-breathing and food stealing dragons from the sounds of it. This was becoming a regular occurrence, so when these things happened the only response I knew of was of Vikings yelling their battle cries and charging forward. There was no time to be scared or shocked. 

That said, the fact that it was becoming more and more common each day was worrying. Not scary, just worrying.

Paying close attention to the sounds coming from outside, I got up and headed for the front door. I slammed it closed the instant I saw a dragon that was heading my way start shooting fire. The overwhelming heat made me sweat within seconds but thanks to the thickness of the door it didn’t reach me. The only damage done was to the door itself, as the fire shot through the crevices, burning away at the edges of the door. 

I waited a couple of seconds before opening the door once more and quickly making my way towards the forgery. There was chaos and dissonance all around me but, once again, that was nothing new. There were dragons flying all around; taking our stock, burning our buildings, dodging axes… blasting away Vikings. Screams and explosions. Lucky for me I was able to dodge it all and make my way through the various burly Vikings and dragons attacking each other.

Unluckily, I passed by Stoick, who yanked me out of the crowd and looked around yelling, “What is he doing out again?!” before screaming the same at me with an added, “Get inside!” before finally setting me down.

Stoick the Vast was the chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. He was the biggest Viking of all of us and what any respectable Viking should aspire to be. There were stories of his impressive deeds and adventures going around. It is said that when he was a baby he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders.

Did I believe it?

Yes, I did.

So, no one can blame me when my instinct is to take the first chance I see to get as far as I can in that moment.

 

**X.X.X**

 

As soon as I made it into the forgery I spotted Gobber holding down a blade with prongs-for-limbs to reshape it with a hammer.

“Ah! Nice of you to join the party,” Gobber exclaims the moment he sees me. “I thought you'd been carried off.”

I put on a leather apron and start to put away Gobber's scattered appendages.

“Who me?” I ask sarcastically, “Nah, come on! I'm way too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all  _ this _ .” I added while striking a bodybuilder pose. To which he snorts at. Understandably. 

“They need toothpicks, don't they?” At this point in my life, I’m not really sure if he’s joking or not. And since I don’t want to ask just to find out that he really doesn’t think that much of me either, I don’t say anything.

I get to work, transferring bent and chipped weapons to the forge, and fixing others whenever I can as Vikings crowd the counter for replacements.

The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well...littler since I was definitely not as tall as most other Vikings my age now much less back then. Or as entirely composed out of muscles as Gobber so kindly -- and unnecessarily-- pointed out. It’s not really something I was supposed to be introduced to but because I was so different from I was supposed to be, things had to be arranged. 

As I work I hear someone yell “FIRE!”

In response, I lean over the window to see as the fire brigade charges through the plaza while they use buckets full of water to douse the fires. 

It wasn’t the greatest and most exciting job to have during a raid but it was certainly a lot better than mine. Unlike me, they were  _ out there _ helping out. 

Besides, you had to be judged and accepted by the Chief. It's something we've done every year for as long as I can remember. In order to be accepted, every young Viking has to convince the Chief through actions. Snotlout, Fishlegs and the twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut, were specifically chosen and deemed ready enough to challenge their rights to be called true Vikings this year. 

Instinctively, I try to join them as they pass, but Gobber grabs me by the back of my shirt and pulls me back inside. 

“Ah, come on,” I beg him. “Let me out, please! I need to make my mark!”

“Oh, you've made plenty of marks. All in the wrong places.” Gobber quips back without missing a beat. And as true as that is, I still have to insist.

“Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get a date.” Probably not but A guy can dream, no?

“You can't lift a hammer. You can't swing an axe…” Before I can even open my mouth to argue how  **_untrue_ ** that is, Gobber grabs the closest thing to him. “ You can't even throw one of these.”

Which, yeah. Okay. I definitely couldn’t throw a bola correctly, no matter how hard I practised.

Out of nowhere, a Viking runs by and snatches the bola out of Gobber's hand, hurling it at a dive-bombing Gronkle. The bola binds the dragon’s legs, sending it into a heavy crash.

“Okay. Fine, but…” I make my way to the back corner of the stall and present him with my latest invention. A quite brilliant idea if I do say so myself. “  _ This  _ will throw it for me.”

The hinged lid of the device springs opens just as I pat it, redying the twin bows I set up and prematurely launching a bola. It narrowly misses Gobber. 

... And proceeds to take out a Viking at the counter.

I cringe in sympathy as I watch the Viking go down from the hit and look at Gobber, already knowing what he will say.

“See, now this right here is what I'm talking about.”

“Mild calibration issue.” I dispute, weakly. I know how  _ not good  _ this looks.

“Hiccup. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all…” Gobber, not knowing what else to say, gestures in my general direction. “  _ … this _ .”

“But-” I falter, “You just pointed to all of me.”

“Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you.”

“Ohhhh…” I fake threaten while glaring and wagging my finger at him.   

“Ohhhhh,” Gobber repeats mockingly. “Yes.”

“You, sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... **Vikingness** contained.” 

After a beat, I add dramatically, “There will be consequences!”

“I'll take my chances.” He deadpans and passes me a sword. “Sword. Sharpen. Now.”

I take it begrudgingly and set it onto the grinding wheel to begin sharpening it.

One day I'll get out there. Because killing a dragon is everything around here. A Nadder head is sure to get me at least noticed. 

Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend.

A Zippleback? Exotic, exciting. Two heads, twice the status.

And then there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.

I look up from my work and turn to look out the counter at the loud, whistling sound overhead that suddenly breaks through the cacophony of bloodshed going on outside.  

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen.

“Night Fury! Get down!” As far as I’ve heard, this thing never steals food, never shows itself, and…  _ never  _ misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why I'm going to be the first.

Gobber replaces his hammer prosthetic with one of an axe as soon as the sound recedes.

“Man the fort, Hiccup, they need me out there.” He limps a few steps before pausing and turning to me with a threatening glare. 

“Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean.” A smirk crosses my face when Gobber gives up and hollers as he charges into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here u guys go!  
> I hope u enjoy this new, albeit meagre piece of my story. As u can see, I will be taking a lot from the movie the most. I've never actually read the books (sad, i know) but there will be some minor details from them. maybe some characters, who knows.  
> however, keep in mind that this will only be up to a certain point. and I will be changing some other things and adding new ideas.
> 
> 11/9/18


	3. Meetings with Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it hasn't been long since I last posted but here u go.  
> this probably won't happen again but I will try to work on my story as much as I have time to

From the top of the cliff, the night seemed quiet and calm. This far away, the battle going on was muffled by the sounds of the forest at night. Of the wind ruffling the trees and of insects chirping. I listened, with my eye pressed to the scope, hand poised on the trigger. I could hear as the Night Fury approached and turned my aim to the defence tower, the direction from which the whistling was coming from.

The sound closed in for what seemed like its’ final strike, entirely camouflaged in the night.

“Come on. Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at.” I mumbled to myself as I move my aim in several directions in hope of catching something.

There was a blast that hit the defence tower. It’s exactly what I needed as the fire of the blast illuminated the dragon long enough for me to take aim. As the tower fell down, I pulled the trigger.

It all happened so fast that I could barely process it completely. “Oh, I hit it! Yes, I hit it! Did anybody see that?”

And that is, of course, when everything goes to literal hell. Especially regarding the fiery part.

The Monstrous Nightmare that appeared, lit itself on fire and followed me all the way to the village as I ran while trying to dodge its fireballs.

 

**X.X.X**

 

“I've never seen anyone mess up that badly. That helped!” Of course, there was no way that Snotlout and his gang would miss a chance to get a dig in at me.

“Thank you, thank you. I was trying, so…” I head up towards the large house, standing prominently on the hill above the others. The house that has been passed down from one Chief to the next. The one that Snotlout has set his eye on.

“I really did hit one.” I insisted miserably to Gobber once we were out of earshot from everyone else. I knew that no one would believe me as long as I didn’t have any definite proof, like say, the body of the dragon I shot down.

“Sure, Hiccup.” His reply didn’t really sound like he believed me. Not one bit.

I sighed, “He never listens.”

“Well, it runs in the family.” It didn’t. But just for that comment, it could start to.

“And when he does,” I continued, “ it's always with this... **disappointed** scowl. Like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich.”

Yes, I knew that I sounded bitter but there was nothing I could do to keep it from my voice. Not even an hour ago my own father said that I wasn’t a dragon killer. When it came down to it, he didn’t believe that I was one of them. And everyone else agreed.

“Excuse me, barmaid,” I said mimicking my dad’s accent and deepening my voice to try and match his. “I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here. This is a talking fishbone!”

I mean, I _knew_ that. I knew that I wasn’t like them; strong and big and a natural born fighter like them. But it wasn’t like any of them - besides Gobber from time to time- ever bothered to give me a hand or even a just a chance. They just casted me out the second they noticed that I was different and checked me off as useless. None of them even knew that I was really good with a sword, I’m just not keen on making people bleed.

Besides, I wasn’t  _wrong_ , they could do with losing a pound or two. Or a couple.

“You're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like. It's what's inside that he can't stand.”

“Thank you,” I say, sarcastically after a beat. “for summing that up.”

“Look,” Gobber tries to backtrack when we reach the doorway, “the point is, stop trying so hard to be something you're not.”

“I just want to be one of you guys.” I sigh, heavily as Gobber just looks at me in sympathy.

I don’t think he understood what it was that I meant exactly, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

Determined, I turn around and went through the front door. And straight out the back door into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11/11/18


	4. Could You Do It?

**_ASTRID_ **

I had been flying for hours, had finally landed and was walking around carefully in the forest outside their village so I was _  tired _ . I was farther away from my nest than I generally liked though it wasn’t my first time here. After all, this forest was where I had found and bonded with Stormfly. Still, I would be here for far longer than I had ever been before, which would raise the chances of being found, but I couldn't just stand by and do nothing when I knew that I could. Don’t get me wrong, I knew there was no love lost either way. That this was the village that rejected people like me and the only family that I had there had disowned me way before I even knew what that meant. But this was still my village and my roots and if I could do anything to help then I would.

Even if, at the moment, I had no idea how.

Chances of something going wrong weren't that great but I still had to be careful because they were still likely. All I had to do was find out some information without making my presence known to anyone or anything and go home as soon as possible. No mistakes, no traces left behind. Simple, right? The risks were medium and amounts of possible errors were extremely low. I had to do everything in my power to make sure that I didn't do anything stupid enough to get myself killed, especially if the reason behind it wasn't important enough.

So why was I so unlucky as to get stuck in a situation such as this? I haven't even gone a night and I already found myself having to make a choice.

Urgh... What was I supposed to do?! How was I going to handle this entire incident?! I couldn't uncover myself but I couldn't help without making myself **known** in some way. And there was no way I wasn't helping.

I could take the guy out without him seeing me; knock him out from behind before he even has the chance to wonder what hit him. Even better was the fact that I had the cover of the night plus the mask I always wore outside of my nest. But then he would wonder who it was that attacked him and why they would leave him alive. I mean, at this time of night who would attack him without stealing from, kidnapping or killing him? That would be too unlikely. If he had a functional brain(though I doubt it), it would make him suspicious of something else going on. I couldn't have that but, as much as I did not like his kind, I couldn't just kill or rob him because of it!I _  refused  _ to stoop so low. I had morals and doing that to him would definitely make a terrible dent on them. Even so, I couldn't just walk away and let him kill the poor thing and one as rare as he was, too. A Night Fury. The offspring of lightning and death itself. It was such a beautiful creature from what I could see from where I was hiding some trees and bushes. So rare that never in my thirteen years of life, surrounded by uncommon dragons, had I ever seen one. He may even be the last of his kind.

And he was about to be killed by a lowly Viking  _ brat _ ! There is no way I could just ignore it, I would never be able to forgive myself if I did.

I found it weird that he was just a foot away from the already resigned-to-die dragon and was doing nothing but staring at it and standing still. Weirder than that was the fact that there was a really rare dragon tied in front of him that wouldn't put up a fight if he tried to kill it but despite all this, he didn't seem happy at all. His face was, for the most part, hidden by the shadows made from the moonlight but I was pretty sure that there was no sign of victory in his features. He didn't look like a Viking who had just caught one of the most feared dragons in history. He kind of looked like a-

My thoughts were brought to an abrupt stop when I saw the light of the full moon reflecting off of the knife from the young Viking that was slowly walking away from the tied Night Fury. Mumbling something that shocked me with a look that was filled with guilt.

"I did this."

When he turned around to leave, I had, for a split second, thought  _ 'Maybe he isn't like the others'  _ but my bewilderment was short lived when just as suddenly he did an about face with a decisive look and approached the Night Fury with the knife pointed at the dragon.

So without a second thought, I charged forwards.

 

**_HICCUP_ **

"Oh, the Gods hate me," I complained aloud as I crossed out another spot on the map in my pocketbook then just scratching the pencil all over the page in frustration, shutting it in anger and putting it away.

After the whole fiasco of accidentally letting the dragons go -and probably causing more damage than the dragons themselves-, getting sent home, the horrible pickup speech that Gobber attempted to give me and the vulnerability that I unwittingly showed him, I still had to go and search for the Night Fury myself. Not that it helped or anything since I couldn't find it. 

"Some people lose their knife or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an  _ entire dragon _ !" As I kept walking I let my frustration out on a branch, smacking it hard only for it to retaliate and hit me in the face. I flinched back and raised my hand to the afflicted area to discover that it left a cut right above my right brow.

As I tried (and probably failed) to give an intimidating one-eyed glare at the offending branch I noticed that the tree, from which the branch was connected to, was broken in half. It's not long before I'm following the broken branches and trees to find out the cause. Following the trail of destruction, I peer out from behind some boulders. 

And there, lying with its whole body and tail tangled in the bola is the Night Fury. I take out my knife and cautiously walk closer to the dragon. 

"Oh wow. I did it. I did it. This _fixes_ _everything!_ Yes!" I excitedly said, putting my foot on the fallen Night Fury as I strike a victory pose. It shakes its body as if trying to remove my foot from itself.

"Whoa!" I jump back, surprised when the dragon moves. I point my blade at it.

Slowly, I make my way along the downed dragon's body reaching its head with my knife ready to strike at any given moment. What I find is a cold gaze locked on me, watching me as carefully as I'm watching it. Assessing me. I try to look away from that unflinching stare, but as unnerving as it was there was just something about it that prevented me from looking away. 

I forced myself to ignore it, gathering my courage for what I needed to do, I strengthened my voice and forged on.

"I'm going to kill you, Dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking." My chest felt tight and I was having trouble breathing. 

"I am a VIKING!" I raised the dagger steadily, determined to prove myself a real Viking in their eyes. To show them once and for all that I belonged and that I wasn't useless. But the dragon's laboured breathing shakes my resolve and I unwittingly look the dragon in the eye. The dragon is still staring at me firmly, and uncertainty leaks through the cracks of my will. I couldn't help holding the stare, couldn't help the feeling of understanding what he- it, whatever- felt. Nor could I help thinking of the terror it must be feeling. And when the Night Fury closed its eyes and lowered its head, with a pitiable whine, already resigned to its fate, I really couldn't help the internal war that took precedence. With a frustrated sigh, I lowered my dagger knowing that I wouldn't be able to go through with it. And I couldn't help thinking that maybe they were right; I  _ am _ Useless. 

I look over the dragon's chaffed rope wounds. Just standing there taking in the damage and pain I caused and letting the fact that I really wasn't the Viking I knew my father hoped I was, sink in.

"I did this." I murmured and turn to leave. Paused. And glanced back at the dragon, with its chest heaving. I grumbled because I knew I wouldn't be able to leave him there. I checked over my shoulder to make sure that no one was watching... then went back to cut the ropes.

As I'm getting closer, there is a rustling sound and I turned just in time to glimpse at the oncoming body hurtling towards me before getting tackled to the ground. I landed with a painful thud and the weight of what, I'm pretty sure was a human, taking my breath away. Before I know it, my knife is knocked out of my hands and I'm wrestling with the other individual for dominance.

We continued for a while until both of us pushed the other away and jumped apart. I instantly go for my knife and point it at them. I can't really see much but what I can see is that they have a mask with horns covering their face and I can't tell whether they are male or female.


	5. That Time I Did Something Beyond Stupid...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long in posting again but here's another chapter.

I had always been pretty small compared to most Vikings. My name itself had been given to me as a form of protection. In their eyes, I was never Viking enough. The fact that my father was the chief and I was, therefore, next in line only seemed to make my shortcomings as a Viking that much more glaring. Unfortunately, my attempts to become a better Viking hard, so far, ended in failure and disappointment. I was too different and that was no good.

While I had a deceivingly scrawny looking body, the many hours per-day I worked as Gobber's apprentice and having had to protect myself from Snotlout (who’d been certain for as long as I could remember that he'd be the next chief and definitely didn't see me as a threat because he thought that I was useless and had since labelled me so.) and sometimes the twins and their almost lethal pranks, I was actually not that terrible at fighting. Of course I wasn't the best yet and I did have a ways to go before I could actually beat anyone by strength alone but once I realized that, as a left-handed person, I should probably be using my left hand to hold a sword before trying to master it with my right, I had become quite good if I did say so myself. It really helped that I found it easy to read my opponent's intentions from their body language. Also, that my pain tolerance had always been so phenomenal -- even if it was partly thanks to Snotlout -- was a great bonus.

Since I was pretty good at reading my opponents, I noticed that they did not fight me with the intention to take the Night Fury for themselves and possibly kill it but to protect it. From me. It was much easier to see, to recognize, since I was doing the same thing.

Which is ironic when you remember the fact that no one in the village (Not even my father. Probably  _ especially _ not him) would actually think me capable of doing so, whether I wanted to or not. And here this stranger comes out of nowhere convinced that I would when I was just trying to let it go.

Ignoring the fact that it's trapped because of me, of course.

Even though I wasn't completely sure that what they wanted was to protect the night fury from me, I knew that I didn't want to hurt anyone if it wasn't necessary, so with that in mind I slowly lowered my knife while I kept my other hand shown to them. 

"I'm just gonna let it go and then we can all go our separate ways, ok?" I started once I saw them begin to relax. They didn't reply so I started to slowly walk towards the Night Fury, and even though they did tense up, they didn't make any movements.

The Night Fury for his part was still laying back with its eyes closed in resignation when I turned around to set it free. Carefully, while moving around to be able to have both of them in view, I cut the ropes as soon as I was close enough to do it and swiftly took a step back from him.

Honestly. It was incredibly stupid of me to turn my back on someone who had jumped out of nowhere with the intention to attack me. I _definitely_ did not see that coming.

**X.X.X**

 

“Shit.” When I woke up, it was  to a semi-dark sky littered with stars and the crisp, early morning chill. While still disoriented from the blow to the head, I remembered that dad was leaving that morning and, as his son, I was expected to at least see him off at home, so I got up quickly and made my way out of the forest with the intentions of avoiding everyone. And hopefully, anything residing in the forest as well.

The first thing I noticed after opening the door,  was my dad sitting slouched over the fire-pit, stirring the coals with his axe. He hadn't turned my way and seemed to be distracted so I didn't think that he’d noticed me. I tried to sneak past him to head up the stairs to my room but that was, of course, too good to be true.

“Hiccup.” He said my name like a statement. Like there was nothing more to add. But I could hear from the tone of his voice that there was something bothering him and I don't think it had fully to do with his upcoming trip.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back and down the couple of steps I had managed to climb and spoke with a steady and calm voice. “Dad. I need to talk to you.”

“I need to speak with you too, son.” He said as he got up from his crouched position in front of the fire to take a couple steps towards me.

We both straighten ourselves up and waited for the other to speak. There was an awkward silence but that was to be expected. For as long as I could remember, we had never taken the time to talk much. This occurrence of needing to talk was a very rare one for us. So, of course, we managed to speak at the same moment.

“I've decided I--”

“Alright. You get your wish.”

“-- don't want to fight dragons.”

“Dragon Training. You start in the morning.”

As soon as I realized what he'd said I knew that anything else that came out of my mouth would be ignored or rebuffed. For a second we both looked at each other in mild shock. 

My strained “ _ Dad… _ ” was not acknowledged. 

“Nonsense,” he says with a fake, joviality in his voice that we both knew didn't belong. 

“You'll need this.”  He tries to hand me an axe but I avoid taking it.

“I don't want to fight dragons.” I try again more forcefully.

“Come on.” He insists, “Yes, you do.” He's tense and I could feel my heart sinking because I could already tell how this conversation was going to end. The way most of them have for as long as I can remember.

“Rephrase,” I try again. “Dad I  _ can't _ kill dragons.” 

“It's time Hiccup.”

“Do you not hear me!?” Of course not. Believing I could actually have a conversation with him was a mistake. “Why can't I be something else? Something besides a dragon killer? I'm really good at making things at the forge! I could--”

“This is serious son! No time for your jokes! We're Vikings. Vikings are trained Dragon Killers,” He forces the axe into my hands.  I looked up to look at him. The light of the fire made him look strong and immovable. He looked like a force to be reckoned with. “It's what we do.  Who we are. And, as the chief-to-be, it is your role. It is your responsibility to be one of the greats.

“Deal?” There's a tone of finality in his voice that I just don't know how to escape from.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”

From the pointed look I got I knew that anything I said from here on out wouldn't change his decision to finally take the dragon killing training. This was the worst timing for him to make this choice. After all the times I asked, of course he decides this  _ now _ . So Im just resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be able to change his mind.

“Deal.” I sighed, resigned. Satisfied, my dad grabs his things and heads for the door with a purpose.

“Good. Train hard,” He hesitates by the door and adds awkwardly. “I'll be back. Probably.”

“And I'll be here. Maybe." Stoick doesn't say anything and heads out the door, leaving Hiccup holding the axe.

‘ _ He probably thinks I'm kidding.’ _

That night I laid down in bed thinking about the Night Fury and the masked person from the forest and wondered what that had been about. I laid down and wished I could be the Viking dad wanted me to be but knew I couldn't be and never would be. The events of today just proved that the others were right, as much as I would have liked to deny it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope u guys liked it! Please leave Kudos and/or comments. subscriptions are welcomed too.


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